


Perfectly Perfect

by jlneveloff (Ashaya)



Category: Star Trek: 2009
Genre: F/M, Family, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-18
Updated: 2009-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashaya/pseuds/jlneveloff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There are still eight days, two hours, thirty-five minutes and fourteen seconds left in your gestation period. It is not 'time', as you say."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfectly Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Perfectly Perfect

**Title:** Perfectly Perfect

 _Spock/Uhura Prompt 029 – Parenthood_

 **Disclaimer:** Star Trek and associated characters created by Gene Roddenberry, and owned by Paramount and all the subsidaries that have something to do with it. I own nothing at all. …which makes me all kinds of sad, 'cause I really wanna borrow Spock for a while.  
 **Rating:** **G/PG**  
 **Genre:** General/Romance/Family  
 **Characters/Pairing(s):** Spock/Uhura, Kirk makes a cameo appearance  
 **Word Count:** ~2,254  
 **Summary:** "There are still eight days, two hours, thirty-five minutes and fourteen seconds left in your gestation period. It is not 'time', as you say."

 **Author's Notes:** This was the first _Star Trek_ fic I have ever written. I'm not new to _Trek._ In fact, I've been watching it my entire life but I've never felt compelled to write fanfic until the new movie. I blame JJ Abrams

* * *

The smell of Vulcan incense filled the living area of the apartment that Spock shared with his wife. The hour was late, but the over the past several months, he had to adapt the timing of his daily ritual of meditation. The drastic changes to Nyota's body and hormone levels had recently began making her nauseous at the slightest smell of the incense. As a result, Spock found himself delaying his meditation until late in the night while Nyota was asleep in the other room.

Spock instructed the computer to dim the lights as he sat, cross legged, on the floor and began drawing in long, deep breaths. His eyes fluttered closed as his breathing deepened and his mind became clearer. Meditation was necessary for Vulcans to find their center and retain control over their emotions. It also helped relax Spock's mind, releasing the stress of the day.

Both he and Nyota had accepted temporary assignments to Starfleet Academy, with the promise from James Kirk that their positions on the _Enterprise_ would be waiting for them when they were ready. Nyota's pregnancy had been difficult because of the copper- vs. iron-based blood battle warring inside the unborn child, though, the pregnancy was not as harsh on her as it had been for Spock's mother. There had been many close calls throughout the early stages of the pregnancy and neither one of them wanted to take the risk of remaining aboard the _Enterprise,_ especially not after the difficulty they had conceiving the child.

Due to the nature of Spock's Vulcan blood, they were not able to conceive naturally, instead having to rely on invitro-fertilization as his parents had with him. After a time, Spock had even begun to wonder if his hybrid status prevented his own fertility and was about to request that he be tested until they had found a doctor that had been able to succeed where the others had failed _._

Spock felt Nyota's presence enter the room, but he did not allow it to break his concentration, instead his eyes remained closed and his attentions focused on his breathing. "Spock?" a slightly hesitant voice broke through his concentration.

He took a deep breath before responding, slightly slackening his control. She rarely interrupted him from meditation, knowing that he relied heavily on his daily ritual, so the disruption stirred him. "Yes, Nyota?"

"It's time."

"I assume you are referring to the birth of our child. There are still eight days, two hours, thirty-five minutes and fourteen seconds left in your gestation period. It is not 'time', as you say. Please allow me to complete my meditation," he spoke his words distantly.

"Spock!" A sharp gasp drew Spock fully out of his meditative state. He turned his gaze in the direction of the bedroom door to find Nyota leaning heavily against the wall, breathing pained, and hands cradling her belly. She spoke urgently. "The baby doesn't _care_ if it's convenient for you or not. It's coming. _Now_."

The realization of the situation now fully set in, with the haze of the meditation gone. Spock pulled himself to his feet and took four long strides towards his wife, who had begun to practice the breathing techniques she had learned in Lamaze class as a contraction began to take hold over her.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and proceeded to lead her in the direction of the sofa. She clung to him, gripping his arms tightly as another strong contraction tore through her body. She halted her steps, the pain too much and only Spock's arms around her prevented her from falling to the ground.

He had extensively studied female human pregnancy and childbirth from the moment they had first decided they wanted a child together. He knew what to expect and when to expect it, as far as the changes to her body were concerned. He knew that women frequently experienced nausea called 'morning sickness,' a misnomer as Nyota frequently experienced it at night rather than morning. He had learned of the unusual food cravings women had during pregnancy when she woke him in the middle of the night demanding he get her ice cream and pickles. He had learned of the increased hormone levels and their affect on Nyota's moods, having experienced her intense happiness one moment and her sudden irritation the next more times than he would like to remember.

But no amount of research could adequately prepare him for the feeling of bewilderment as he realized that the moment was here; soon he would be a father.

"I shall summon an ambulance," Spock said, struggling to maintain his composure. He made a motion to head in the direction of the comm. panel. Though he knew that women often experienced intense pain during childbirth, the sight of his wife undergoing such pain was troubling.

"No," Nyota gasped, reaching out to grab his arm, stopping him. "There's no time. You're going to have to take me yourself."

Spock began to protest but thought better of it; instead he began to get ready for the trip to the hospital. He knew that they had prepared well for this day. Plans had been made, the nursery prepared months in advanced, and overnight bags packed. They were as prepared as they ever could be. So, why couldn't he remember where anything was?

He wandered around the room, trying to find the overnight bag that Nyota prepared for them. Inside it was a change of clothing for both her and Spock. She had told him that it was entirely possible that they would remain at the hospital overnight, or even longer, depending on how long her labor was.

"Spock, what's wrong?" Nyota asked, sounding less pained and more in control of herself, as she watched her husband wander aimlessly around their living quarters. Spock deducted that the contraction must've past.

"I am merely trying to ascertain where the luggage has been placed," he told her from his position in the far corner of the room.

"Uh," she replied, confusion coloring her voice. "Did you look by the door?" she finished, pointing in the direction of the door, where a large overnight bag lay slumped against the wall.

Had Spock been completely human, he would have sheepishly ducked his head in embarrassment while quickly walking towards the bag. As it were, he simply walked towards it, purpose in his stride.

He picked the bag up before going to Nyota and helping her to her feet. She clung to him as he helped her outside and to the hover car she had insisted they buy. Once Spock helped Nyota inside the vehicle, he told her, "I will inform the medical staff of our imminent arrival." Spock pulled out his communicator and paged the hospital as he made his way to the driver's side of the hover car. Once his call was complete, he sped towards the Academy's medical center.

* * *

The drive to the medical center was only ten minutes away, yet for Nyota, it felt longer. Her contractions had intensified as the baby came closer to making its debut. She was relieved to see that Spock's communication with the hospital paid off as she was immediately surrounded by medical staff as soon as Spock pulled the hover car in the emergency room entrance.

Nyota was promptly helped into a wheelchair and wheeled inside. Spock kept his pace next to her, as she reached out and gripped his hand once more. "You're coming in, right?" Nyota asked, her eyes pleading with him.

One area throughout the pregnancy that both Spock and Nyota had discussed _ad nauseum_ had been his presence at the birth of their child. On Vulcan, wives did not expect their husbands to be present at the birth of their children. It was not something that was done, not like on Earth. Spock had expressed some discomfort at being in the same room, as there was no logical reason for him to be so as he would not be helping in the birthing process. His own father had not been present for his birth, having been away at a meeting.

Nyota insisted that she would feel better if he were present. Even Spock's mother had expressed a desire for his father to be in the room with her during his birth and was upset when he missed it. One day early in Nyota's pregnancy, in a rare candid conversation between father and son, Sarek had told Spock that one of the few regrets he had was not being there to witness his birth. Such openness was not commonplace between Spock and his father and as a result, Spock began to truly consider being present for the birth.

"Of course, _k'diwa,_ " Spock reassured Nyota as he followed the team of doctors and nurses into the maternity room that had been set aside for the expectant mother.

True to his word, Spock had remained at Nyota's side throughout the entire labor process. He comforted her, held her hand when she reached out to him when the pain from the contractions were almost too much for her to bear. He gently wiped the sweat from her brow and uttered words of encouragement as she pushed, crying out as the pain intensified.

After many long and painful hours, Nyota gave one final push and their son entered the world, crying out.

* * *

Later that day, Spock stood outside the window of the hospital nursery where several bassinets of newborns stood in a row to allow the mesmerized faces of onlookers to gaze upon them. His watchful and inquisitive eye remained focused on the bassinet that held his son. He had been observing the sleeping infant for several minutes, mentally cataloging every freckle, every feature, every tiny movement. Spock's eyes took in the slightly upswept brows and the faintly pointed ears, signs of the Vulcan blood coursing through his veins. His complexion was darker than Spock's own, yet lighter than his mother's.

"Ah, there's the brand new father!"

Spock's attention jerked away from his son at the sound of the excited voice. He had been so enraptured with his son, that he had not heard the footsteps of James T. Kirk strolling down the hall, a large smile on his face. In his hand, he clutched two large, brown, cylindrical rolls that Spock recognized as cigars. Each one was wrapped with a blue ribbon with a small note card loudly proclaiming "It's a boy!" Spock decided to let his curiosity over Kirk's sudden appearance take precedence over his curiosity about the cigars.

"Captain?" he questioned. "How did you know? I have not yet sent out a communication to announce the birth."

Kirk stood next to Spock, facing the window and let his gaze shift over to Spock's son. "Connections, Spock, connections," he replied cryptically.

Spock's eyebrow shot up at the response. "Sir, please explain."

Kirk turned back to Spock and gave a small laugh. "You know, for a race that prides itself on suppressing emotional responses, the one emotion you can't seem to hide is confusion." Spock continued to stare at the Captain and Kirk took a deep breath, realizing that perhaps Spock was not in the mood for jokes.

"Bones heard on the grapevine that Lt. Uhura had gone into labor," Kirk explained. "We weren't that far out so we decided to drop by. It's not every day that the only Vulcan in Starfleet is witnessing the birth of his kid." Kirk shot Spock an award-winning smile before reaching out and slapping him on the back, ignoring the fleeting look of annoyance that crossed Spock's face at the touch.

"How's Uhura?" Kirk asked seriously, as the two men let their eyes drift back to the child. He knew that the pregnancy had been difficult at times.

"Lt. Uhura endured a long and intensive labor," Spock replied, remembering the hours with perfect clarity. "She is now resting."

"Good," Kirk nodded before letting his gaze settle on the infant. "He's beautiful, Spock," he added a moment later.

"Yes," Spock agreed, staring at his son. "He is quite perfect."

Kirk smirked at the half-Vulcan's words, recognizing that they had been spoken without any real thought; a purely emotional response. "I thought there was no such thing as perfection," he teased, recalling Spock's consistent assertions on the matter.

"I feel I must rescind those comments, Captain," Spock replied coolly. "Apparently I was mistaken."

Kirk gave a short laugh at his friend's stoicism despite his obvious pride in the child. It appeared that all new fathers, human or otherwise, were susceptible to the feelings of admiration and wonderment.

"I must admit, Jim," Spock began stoically, attempting not to let emotion enter his voice. "I do feel," he paused, trying to find the correct word. "…Apprehensive now that my son has been born. I cannot help but wonder if I will be an adequate father."

"I believe, Mr. Spock, you'll be perfectly perfect," Kirk emphatically answered what he believed to be true, deciding not to comment on Spock's noticeable nervousness at the prospect of being a father.

"How can you be sure?" Spock asked, unable to simply accept Kirk's answer.

"I just know, Spock. I just know."

Before Spock could question him further, Kirk turned and threw his arm around Spock's shoulders, pulling him away from the nursery. "Now, come on," he said, brandishing the cigars Spock had noticed earlier. "I'm gonna teach you about an old Earth tradition men do to celebrate the birth of a baby."

 _k'diwa -_ Vulcan word for 'beloved'


End file.
